


You Want The What in My Where?

by NervousRainbow (BlueberryRainbow)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Makeshift is alive, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, continuity soup, some IDW elements, wacky space adventures, which is to say i ate canon for breakfast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25888522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueberryRainbow/pseuds/NervousRainbow
Summary: In which Smokescreen lands on a neutral planet of organics where he spends the duration of the war working a dead-end job with his friend, Hot Rod. Things are going just fine until several bots show up looking for him. Something about an Omega Key, but he would know if he had one of those with him. Right?[Self indulgent shenanigans based off a post by gay-formers on tumblr]
Relationships: Hot Rod & Smokescreen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely can't be bothered with expositions so just know that after discovering Smokescreen has the key, both the Autobots and the Decepticons send people to find him. And Makeshift is alive because he's an amazingly cool character concept and they WASTED HIM.
> 
> Based on [this post](https://gay-formers.tumblr.com/post/621350933546336256/god-imagine-if-smokescreen-never-landed-on-earth) by gay-formers on tumblr.

Arcee looked up at the glowing sign above the doorway. ‘Blast Off Diner’ was written in several different languages and a crude drawing of a ship marred the windows. This was the place the organic at the port had said to look for a Cybertronian racer. Bumblebee whirred optimistically beside her and pushed the large doors open. The restaurant was filled mostly with organics and the mech here and there, no Cybertronians in sight. After a few moments of awkward stares tossed their way, the two Autobots got in line to order. Hopefully one of the employees would know where to find him.

“Welcome to Blast Off Diner, where every meal is out of this world. What can I get for you today?” the cashier behind the counter asked, not looking up. He was painted bright red, decorated with flames and, more importantly, a Cybertronian racer.

:This is the easiest mission we’ve ever had!: Bumblebee chirped over comms.

:Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.: Arcee warned, but allowed herself a bit of relief. If this was the mech they’d set out to find, the rest of the mission would be smooth sailing back to base.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions?” Arcee asked, tapping the counter to get the mech to look up. A set of blue optics widened rather dramatically once they locked with hers. He didn’t object, so she gestured to Bee to pull out the picture of their target.

“Recognize this mech? We need to talk to him,” Arcee asked, handing the datapad to him. The picture didn’t quite match the mech in front of them, but frame changes were easy enough to get a hold of if one really wanted to. The red racer was silent for a moment, scrutinizing the picture.

“Can’t say that I do. Why? He, like, a fugitive or something?”

Arcee regarded the other carefully, she had been around long enough to know when someone was lying to her. This mech definitely knew something, why he was disinclined to share was yet to be seen.

“Just a person of interest. You sure you’ve never seen him. There aren’t many other Cybertronians on this planet,” Arcee pressed.

“Look, you’re holding up the line. If you’re not gonna order something, then I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the mech dodged the question with a purposeful glance towards the growing crowd of organics behind them.

“Do you have energon?”

“No. I’d try across the street,” the mech was about to wave the next customer forward before Bee dropped a few credits on the counter and gestured to the first item on the menu: some sort of pink beverage.

“...Right. One cosmic cider coming right up. You want two straws?” the racer asked suspiciously, noting that the pair in front of him couldn’t drink cider at all.

“Just one is fine,” Arcee said as Bee collected their change and the drink. They were paying customers now, they could stay for as long as they liked.

* * *

“Hey, Smokescreen?” Hot Rod asked, sneaking out the backdoor way after his shift had ended.

“Hot Rod! Where’ve you been?” Smokescreen demanded, attention leaving the game he had previously been enthralled in. The device screen flashed red as glyphs rolling on the screen announced his defeat.

“Hiding out in the kitchen, heading home now. There were some Cybertronians here looking for you,” the red racer said, glancing around him before transforming and driving back to their shared apartment. He would take the long way, best to ensure he wasn’t being followed.

“Cybertronians? Did you know them?” Smokescreen asked, intrigued. There were very few Cybertronians in the city and even fewer who bothered to stop by Blast Off, a restaurant that didn’t serve energon.

“Nah. Some racer and a two-wheeler. Said they wanted to talk to you,” Hot Rod stopped and allowed several organics to cross the street before proceeding.

“About what?”

“Didn’t say, just said it was important. Didn’t mention your name either, but they had a picture of you.”

“A picture?”

“Yup. Racer had it on a datapad. Weird guy, didn’t talk once.”

“Think they were allied?” Smokescreen asked apprehensively. Neutral Cybertronians were few and far between. Then again, any Cybertronians were few and far between.   
“Oh, definitely. Not sure on what side, but they were covering up some badges,” Hot Rod confirmed, making another wrong turn. He couldn’t be sure if the white vehicle behind him was following or if he was imagining it.

“I’ll keep an eye out for them on my next shift. See you soon, Rodders,” Smokescreen said, deactivating the comm. If they were covering their badges they were probably ‘Cons, though neither faction were particularly welcome in the city. Either way, Smokescreen wanted no part of the war. Not after seeing the devastation it had brought to other planets. The rest of the Galaxy hated Cybertronians, and Smokescreen was right there with them.

* * *

Makeshift grinned, tailing loosely behind the mech from the diner. Nice of the Autobots to make the first move. While they were busy looking for clues, he would already be long gone with the last Omega Key.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod was being followed. It was just a suspicion before, but now it was obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! The semester started right as I started this, poor planning on my part. Enjoy :D

Hot Rod was being followed. It had merely been a suspicion before, but now it was obvious. The dual suns were setting and he was still driving the same route he had when he left the diner, waiting for the other vehicle to take an exit or get bored. They had been going for a while now and the car tailing him was yet to break away, whoever this was they weren’t even trying to be subtle about it. Maybe it was overkill to pull into an alley and draw his weapons on what was probably some hapless organic, but Hot Rod had been having a weird day. He was allowed to be a little paranoid.  
“What’s the big idea, buddy? Why’re you following me?” the racer demanded, pointing his blasters towards the driver’s side.  
To Hot Rod's surprise, instead of a tiny organic exiting the vehicle, it transformed into another mech- a Cybertronian of all things. The mech was slightly taller than him and much bulkier. They were decorated with yellow and green highlights that matched the brightly colored wheels on their back, a bright red Autobot badge in the center of their chest completed the look.  
“Sorry for startling you, kid. I wanted to keep an eye on you while you headed home. Guess I wasn’t as secretive as I thought, huh? The name’s Prowl, no relation.” They offered their hand out for a shake, the brightest smile Hot Rod had ever seen plastered on their wide face.  
“What do you want?” Hot Rod glanced at the hand and pointedly did not shake it. They may be.. oddly friendly, but he wasn’t about to let his guard down in front of a strange mech in an alley.  
“Mostly I wanted to make sure you were alive. I saw those two mechs from earlier skulking around and for a minute I thought I was too late. Thank Primus you didn’t buy their story.”  
“What- okay, start from the beginning. Who are you? What do you want? Who were those other mechs? What exactly is going on here?” Hot Rod asked, inching to the alley’s exit. This day just got weirder and weirder.  
“Right, I’m sure you’ve been out of the loop for a while; living in this nowhere port and all. I’m an Autobot Intelligence Agent-” Prowl tapped their badge “- I was sent by my superiors to find an Autobot who dropped off our radar here several millennia ago. I’m guessing that’s you. We need you, soldier. The war is almost won but for us to finally defeat the Decepticons forever, we need something that we believe was left with you. Those mechs you met? They were once part of our ranks, but they betrayed us to help those fragging Decepticons track you down.” The white mech leaned in, eyes glittering with intensity. “Listen, kid, those are very dangerous mechs and they will kill you to get what they want.”  
Hot Rod opened his mouth to laugh but the other mech’s field was dripping with sincerity. If he was lying, he was a damn good liar. The others had seemed sketchy and they seemed very keen on finding Smokey. Oh, Primus... Smokescreen!  
“I don’t have anything important with me, but I might know who you’re looking for,” Hot Rod offered.  
“You don’t know how much of a relief that is. You’ve saved lives today, kid,” Prowl exhaled in relief. Transforming into their alt-modes the two mechs made their way to Smokescreen.

* * *

  
Makeshift was truly proud of himself. Not only was he able to fool this brat, but he was also able to do it all without laughing at his stupidity. The kid believed every piece of scrap Makeshift fed him once the magic words ‘Autobot Intelligence’ was said. It was too easy, he’d be back to Lord Megatron in record time at this rate. He’d have to thank the kid for the promotion once the brat’s friend was brought to the tyrant in stasis cuffs.

The pair made the turn into Smokescreen and Hot Rod's building, both on high alert for the mechs from the diner. Makeshift because he didn't want anyone interfering with his perfect mission and Hot Rod because he didn't want to encounter any rogue Autobots- he was adorable. With a quick glance over his shoulder (and a smile for 'Prowl'), the racer allowed them into the building. It was rather cramped and reeked of organics. Autobots or not, Makeshift found it unbelievable that any mech would choose to live like this. What a joke. After an excruciatingly long journey to the end of the hall and a rather uncomfortable elevator ride, they were at the apartment.

The inside was dark and Makeshift's optics switched to night vision automatically. Seated on a (nearly broken) berth for two was another racer, this one white and blue. The other mech looked up from a handheld game, a smile disappearing as quickly as it came. He stood up and eyed the badge on Makeshift's chest warily.

"Hey, Hot Rod. Who's your friend?"

"Don't worry, Smokey, he's Autobot Intelligence. He's been looking all over for you."

"Right. Can I have a word with you?" Smokescreen asked, giving Makeshift the most pained smile he had ever seen. Huh, maybe this kid would be a little harder to convince.

"I'll be right here when you're done," Prowl said, projecting as much sincerity as they could. This was humiliating.

* * *

Leading Hot Rod into the other room (a small, unused bathroom they had converted into an office of sorts), Smokescreen fixed Hot Rod with his very best death glare.

"Before you say anything, let me explain. I know how this looks, Smokey, but it's bigger than you know," Hot Rod began, keeping his voice lowered.

"Are you insane? You find some random and 'bot, they tell you a fairytale, and all of a sudden it's okay to bring them into our home?" Smokescreen whispered, gesturing wildly.

"Look, look, look. I was skeptical of them too, but you really need to hear them out. This- what they- okay, they tell it better. But they- you can help end the war."

Smokescreen froze, "I can what?"

"End the war. Or help to anyways."

"You're crazy. This is crazy. I- what am I going to do that's so important?" Smokescreen hissed.

"They said you have something, something really important that the Autobots need-"

"And what makes you think I want anything to do with them?"

"Smokey, you don't mean that."

The two mechs stood quietly for a moment. Hot Rod was right, he didn't mean that. He wasn't happy about it, but he did care about the cause. He wanted the war to end and he knew, despite everything, he would do anything to make sure it was the Autobots that came out on top.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine, I'll hear them out."

Hot Rod smiled and opened the door gesturing for Smokescreen to go first. With a scowl in his friend's direction, ("You're lucky you're cute, Hot Rod.") Smokescreen approached the white and green mech. As promised, the mech hadn't moved and appeared to be busy studying their servos.

"Okay. What do you want?" Smokescreen asked, folding his arms and fixing the mech with his best no-nonsense stare.

"The Omega Key that Alpha Trion hid in your chassis."

"I- you want the what Alpha Trion hid in my where?" This had to be a joke, a very bad joke made in very poor taste.

"The Omega Key. In your chassis," the mech repeated, not a trace of sarcasm or humor in their optics. Smokescreen felt like his systems were about to crash.

"Maybe I should start from the beginning."

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will probably be a bit sporadic, but I'm very excited to write this fic!
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr!](https://dangerously-nervoustudent.tumblr.com/)


End file.
